


The Very Authentic, though Not Entirely Truthful, Diary of Draco Malfoy

by Elly_dk



Series: The Very Authentic Draco Malfoy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Diary/Journal, Epistolary, Falling In Love, HP: EWE, Healing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-War, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, Snark, Trauma, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 73
Words: 12,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elly_dk/pseuds/Elly_dk
Summary: Draco Malfoy has court-mandated appointments with a mind healer every Saturday and has to keep a weekly journal while attending Hogwarts for his final year.This is that journal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people.
> 
> I had this idea in my head since finishing up the other fic a week or so ago. I hope you like it!
> 
> Oh, and just to warn everyone. Some chapters will be very short as there will only be one diary-entry each chapter. I like that way, but if that's not your thing, I totally understand.
> 
> I hope you'll comment along the way if you feel like it.
> 
> /Elly

Thursday September 3rd 1998

 

Dear Diary

Go fuck yourself.


	2. Chapter 2

Friday September 11th 1998

 

Dear Diary

Oh how I ache from the thoughts of my father’s imprisonment. How will my young heart ever survive? My hope is that my trusted healer of the mind and soul will comfort me in this time of turmoil. It is indeed wonderful to have such a trusted companion as you, dear diary, in my time of need.

Sincerely Draco


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday September 19th 1998

 

Writing. No sarcasm. Excellent.

Today I woke up at eight am. I went to the loo, had oatmeal for breakfast and now I am writing this. My week has bored me to death. However, it would seem I still do not find Hogwarts as tiresome as the thought of joining my dear father in Azkaban. 

We aim for honesty here; therefor I will tell you that I still find this diary business utterly ridiculous.


	4. Chapter 4

Friday September 25th 1998

 

This week has been exactly like the two previous. Nothing to report. I have begun running early in the mornings. It clears my head. Before this becomes a thing, I will say that I am not running away from anything other than annoying Gryffindor do-gooders. I really fucking wish I were back in the dungeon.


	5. Chapter 5

Friday October 2nd 1998

Right, I have thought about the three questions you posed last week.

Firstly – I do not resent mind healers or the help that they provide others. I just do not find myself in the need of their services. 

Secondly – I find writing a fucking diary or “journal”, or whatever you want to call this tripe, ridiculous because it serves no purpose. I already have to sit down and fucking talk to someone once a week. Besides, diary writing is for little girls with crushes, who likes to draw hearts in the corners of letters and practice writing “Mrs. Ginny Potter” on all of their stationary. It is utterly useless for a grown man.

Thirdly – I cannot pretend that I write to myself, as that notion is even more ludicrous than the thought of writing because someone asked me to. In addition, I know that someone will read my words. I cannot pretend otherwise.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday October 9th 1998

 

I know I forswore ever using this as a viable option for dealing with my never-ending list of troubles, but I fucking need to vent about something. 

I have been keeping my head down this month, not talking to anyone, just going about my business. Those fucking Gryffindors strut around with their heads high and their noses in the air as if they own the place. Sometimes I want to bang those ginger heads together and make them stop looking so fucking smug. 

I cannot help that I am superior in the ways of potion making compared to that oaf Weasley. He should not get away with ruining my things – so even though I have been an exemplary rehabilitated ex Death Eater for the last month – It is apparently the height of impropriety to defend myself. I only tripped the bastard, he fell on his face all of his own accord. What kind of Quidditch keeper is not able to brake his goddamn fall.

In conclusion, I have detention and the Weasel does not. 

Yes, I do enjoy a good wine. Thank you for asking.


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday October 10th 1998

Do not see this entry as an acknowledgement regarding the validity of diary writing. This is in fact only a follow up on yesterday’s troubles. 

Following the incident with Weasley, all the oh-so-noble Gryffindors found it very pleasant to either ignore me completely or try to trip me as retaliation. I expect nothing less of that immature segment of the school population, so that is not what bothers me. I am used to it after all. No, when I was doing inventory in the potion storage, who would walk in but the Saint himself. Fucking Potter. It is priceless, it really is. I was sure he was there to antagonise me. He told me he did not hate me. He said: "Just so you know, I don’t hate you anymore and I don’t think what the others are doing to you is ok." 

Then he just fucking left. 

Where does he come off? Why should his pathetic attempt at acceptance mean anything to me. He probably was trying to get under my skin somehow, though it seems much too subtle for him. 

I am not admitting that this helped me in any sort of capacity. The only reason I am even writing here, is that Pansy and Blaise are not technically on speaking terms with me at this time. Not that it bothers me as such. They are easily replaceable once I find suitable candidates.


	8. Chapter 8

Wednesday October 14th 1998

 

Potter sat down next to me in our common room today. Bones was about ready to dismember me and throw me in the lake for good measure. I wonder what the future mrs. Potter would make of that reaction. 

I am convinced this is all part of some elaborate hoax - though Granger must have thought it out. 

Merlin, I miss Slytherins, at least I know the behavioural patterns enough to know when someone is conspiring against me. Where the fuck are all the Slytherins anyway. Fuck Blaise.

I will perish if I have to make nice with the Hufflepuffs. 

Hogwarts is highly overrated.


	9. Chapter 9

Tuesday October 20th 1998

 

He is doing it every day – just casually taking up the normally vacant space next to me. 

He has not attempted to initiate conversation again though. I suppose that only seems like an acceptable approach when he is able to corner me alone. 

Yesterday we just ate in silence. Right next to each other. 

What am I supposed to do with that?

And now I am actually fucking writing in this thing, trying to sort out my plights. Maybe I am a thirteen-year-old girl. Trapped in a man’s body. The Dark Lords final revenge on me. She probably has a ridiculous name like ‘Susie’.


	10. Chapter 10

Friday October 23rd 1998

 

I have been working alone in all of our classes this year. It suits me perfectly. We do a lot of independent study – the eight-year common room has a large table in the middle of the room, round, very inclusive, where we are all imagined to sit down and lend our expertise to one another. I do not. I am quite certain I would not be welcome. 

Then along comes Potter. 

We have a charms project and I was prepared to handle it unaided, however there he is again, sitting down beside me. He behaves as if it is not the most bizarre occurrence in recent history. Yes, I am counting the rebirth of a Dark Lord, the escape of a dragon from Gringotts and the utter failure that is salted caramel ice cream – do not put fucking salt in my dessert. Disgusting.

Now I have to participate in the group study sessions. Sitting next to Potter. For hours. Fuck.

Maryweather, if you are still reading this drivel, do not expect me to talk about any of it with you. I would appreciate if we could pretend that I am not in fact losing the last shred of my dignity. Thank you.


	11. Chapter 11

Friday October 30th 1998

 

I am not fucking doing this anymore.

I told you not to discuss the content of this piece of shit diary. Do not call it a journal one more time. It does not make the process any less demeaning.


	12. Chapter 12

Sunday November 1st 1998

 

He was crying. I found him drunk and crying last night. I just stood there in the middle of the common room watching him cry all alone, in front of the fireplace. He looked at me all green eyes and messy hair. Where were his glasses? I suppose he removed them to dry his eyes. He offered me a glass of Fire Whiskey as if he expected me to plop down next to him and start bawling my eyes out too.

I invited him to join me on my run today.

What possessed me to do that?

I think it is those fucking eyes – and the jaw. Shit.


	13. Chapter 13

Monday November 2nd 1998

 

What the fuck is wrong with this piece of rubbish, why can I not rip out a page…

 

or erase paragraphs… 

 

or cross anything out…

 

or burn the infernal thing…

 

Fuck.


	14. Chapter 14

Sunday November 8th 1998

 

I recognise that writing in this journal is a part of my rehabilitation and apologize for my outburst in your office yesterday. 

I will endeavour to be more forthcoming in my writing.


	15. Chapter 15

Wednesday November 11th 1998

 

We have been running together in companionable silence. Well, I suppose it approaches awkward silence. That changed today. I guess Potter's physical fitness has benefitted from the daily workout. Today he was ahead of me. Why does he run in shorts and a tank-top. Outside. In November. It is indecent. I told him as much, well, I left out the indecent part. He said, and I quote: We’re fucking wizards Draco.

I bloody well know I am a wizard. I, however, do not run around half-naked with a warming charm as my sole defence against the elements and ogling first-years. In Potter’s case ogling-fucking-everyone. Wizards indeed.

And when precisely did he decide to call me Draco? I nearly fell flat on my face – Weasley style – when he addressed me with my given name. 

Now I do not know how to go about running together anymore. Perhaps I could feign an illness of some sort. 

Is Dragon Pox completely annihilated or could I give it some sort of renaissance?


	16. Chapter 16

Thursday November 12th 1998

 

Just to be clear, I am not one of the individuals doing the ogling. I only intended to point out that he is Harry Potter – Vanquisher of Evil – Boy Who Lived – Chosen One – Hero of the Fucking World. Everyone looks at him. The least he could do is throw on some training robes. It is only appropriate.


	17. Chapter 17

Sunday November 15th 1998

 

There is going to be a Hogsmeade weekend next weekend. A good chance to buy Christmas presents, they say. 

A good chance to restock my liquor supply, I say.

Do not start with me about the drinking again. It is getting better. Christmas though. I am not allowed to visit mother in St. Mungo’s. They denied my request. I could just apparate there from Hogsmeade next Saturday, but somehow I am sure word would reach The Probation Control Office and then off to Azkaban I go. 

Well, at least I would visit with both my parents in celebration of the holidays.

On further reflection, I will see through my plans of inebriation instead.


	18. Chapter 18

Sunday November 22nd 1998

 

I crossed paths with Potter in Hogsmeade. However improbable it seems, what with sharing a common room with him and classes and not forgetting the fact that he has kept up running in the mornings, I have been spectacularly successful in avoidance techniques over the past couple of weeks. Suddenly in the back of Leticia’s Luscious Liquors he was occupying the space right behind me. He was reaching for something on a high shelf above the fine selection of whiskeys I myself was contemplating. 

He held on to my shoulder – to prevent a fall I suppose. 

He did not say anything to me. He just looked at me with sad eyes. Sad green eyes. He paid and I left. What am I expected to do here? How can he even imagine a scenario in which we will become friends? Everyone, literally everyone, hates me. He should not associate with me.

What is it about? The running, the sitting down, the sad eyes. He must be forgetting who I am. 

I will never forget what I am.

I did forget to purchase my whiskey.


	19. Chapter 19

Friday November 27th 1998

 

Tonight he was sitting in front of the fire unaccompanied once more. I could have passed quite easily without making a fuss. He was not crying.

I took a seat beside him of my own accord and then he smiled at me. I have not seen him smile since the mornings we ran. Maybe he has smiled at other people. He probably has.

I saw Ginevra Weasley make out with some Ravenclaw seventh year – maybe he was a Hufflepuff; I was not paying much attention to anything other than the fact that he was not Potter.

When I asked Potter about it, tonight, in front of the fire, he shrugged. He lifted his shoulders ever so lightly as if it was no big deal.

We did not say much else. 

I think we will run together tomorrow. I am almost positive.


	20. Chapter 20

Thursday December 3rd 1998

 

I cannot become one of those individuals who obsesses over one person. I have made an agreement with myself not to mention a certain bespectacled individual for my next three entries.   
I am not entirely sure this entry counts, but let us for the time being say that it does.

With Christmas rapidly approaching, I find myself getting sentimental. I must admit that I do sometimes miss my former friends as something more than just other Slytherins to even out the atrocious amount of Gryffindors I have to associate with on a regular basis. I could in fact seek out some of the younger pupils as I am not banned from entering the dungeons. As I have not found the need to wander down there, I must conclude that it is the actual people, I miss. 

I am unsure of how to go about reconnecting though.

Blaise and I did not part on good terms. In hindsight I think he might have been more fond of me than I was able to comprehend or reciprocate at the time. I suppose I did lead him on, though leading requires some forethought and presence of mind which I had very little of during the last years of the war.

Pansy – well, I guess Pansy chose Blaise.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I just wanted to tell you that I am so happy that you seem to enjoy this story and keep encouraging me to write both this and other things. I am very grateful.
> 
> Love
> 
> Elly

Monday December 7th 1998

 

As discussed, I wrote a letter to Blaise yesterday. I have transcribed the letter verbatim below. I will not comment further on this for now, but I will transcribe the reply if it comes.

 

Dear Blaise

I know we parted on less than ideal terms.   
I know that I was not the friend I should have been.   
I know you needed more from me than I gave.   
I know that I took more from you than I should have.

I am sorry.

Though I cannot promise you more than friendship, I will endeavour to be a more considerate friend in the future than I was in the past.

Draco


	22. Chapter 22

Friday December 11th 1998

 

Blaise has not written me back thus far.

I shared some awful apple drink with that person I am not mentioning at the moment. What is wrong with a nice whiskey? Or wine? Or one of those Goblin drinks – such a kick behind them, though they taste more like water from the lake or muddy soup, but they knock you out. Apple drinks, though. It was green. I do not think I should voluntarily drink green liquids. I am almost positive that Severus had a meticulous chart with specifications about the toxicity of liquids according to colour. Green was danger. Green is danger. Fucking emerald, toxic green. Fuck.


	23. Chapter 23

Sunday December 13th 1998

 

I try not to be disheartened by the fact that I have not heard a word from Blaise. 

Things I cannot change shall not control me.


	24. Chapter 24

Tuesday December 15th 1998

 

As per your suggestion, I am trying to recognize things in my life that I am able to change and want to change. I have made a list. It is as follows:

1\. I would like to have between two and five friends  
2\. I would like to be able to speak with my mother  
3\. I would like to play a game of Quidditch  
4\. I would like to spend Christmas with someone who does not hate me.

I am making progress, however slowly, on the first point. I had a conversation with Wood last night. She was doing her potions essay and needed help. I will make it my next assignment for myself to try and figure out her first name. I think it is something with an F, or an L? Well, maybe I can ask someone else about that, thereby increasing my chances of success. The one Patil sister is in Ravenclaw as well, but I do not know her first name either and I always mix up the two. 

I am still hoping that Blaise will write and either spur me on to make new friends or make sure that I do have two at least. 

I have decided to count Potter as a possible, soon to be, friend – however odd that sounds.

The other points of change I would like to instigate are more difficult. Without friends, I cannot play Quidditch – this point is dependent on the former and I will return to it at a later date.

I suppose I could try and write my mother, but I am not sure how far along her rehabilitation is and therefor, she may or may not return my letter.

Christmas is fast approaching and will get the most attention at this moment. So far, the only viable option I have thought of is contacting my great aunt Florentina – she lives in Greece. I am not sure she knows who I am, which makes me quite sure she does not hate me.


	25. Chapter 25

Saturday December 19th 1998

 

My Christmas plans are not progressing as hoped. I have been conversing with McGonagall and it seems I will only be allowed to leave school grounds if the headmistress can personally vouch for whomever may decide to take pity on me and invite me home for the holidays. 

In addition it would seem that my great aunt Florentina died from a nasty spattergoit infection more than fifty years ago.

As the other students are leaving for their respective homes tomorrow, my prospects are looking rather bleak.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy International Fanworks Day everyone!

Thursday December 24th 1998

 

My attempt at thwarting utter loneliness at Christmas has officially failed in about three hours. Maybe I should do a countdown? Throw myself a pity party? Drink my Christmas present to me as the clock strikes midnight?

Pity party of one – check.

I am making an effort to focus on the more successful parts of The Malfoy Four Step Plan to a Happier Life.

Potter approached me before heading off to the ginger Christmas extravaganza. It is not as though he made a sweeping declaration of friendship, he did tell me to have a happy Christmas, which is more than anyone else did. I think I mumbled something appropriate in return, though I cannot remember what.

In addition, I overheard the Patil twins wishing _Maria_ Wood a happy holiday.


	27. Chapter 27

Saturday December 26th 1998

 

I assumed I would be relishing my first free Saturday since August - that has not been the case today. 

The fact that my social interactions are heavily reliant on a court appointed individual, who has no other interest in me than doing her job, is an entirely new level of pathetic.

There is Hagrid attempting to save the Speedmaggots, who are eating his furniture.

Then there is Brown still drooling over Weasley.

And then there is me.


	28. Chapter 28

Tuesday December 29th 1998

 

He has returned.

Well, that did not sound ominous in the slightest. I am not in fact referring to the Dark Lord, quite the opposite. Potter has returned early from Christmas with the Weasleys. He is sitting in the common room as I write this. 

Why is he here? Why now? Should I ask him?

I was headed out to the Quidditch pitch for a bit of flying and I spotted him sitting in that spot that he tends to occupy when he has got something on his mind. 

I just turned around and went straight to my room.

Shit.


	29. Chapter 29

Wednesday December 30th 1998

 

I did not ask him why he returned early, I just asked him to join me on the pitch and he did. We flew around in circles for nearly an hour and he told me about it.

He told me about George Weasley, who did not come out of his room.

He told me about Molly Weasley, who burned Christmas dinner.

He told me about Percy Weasley, who never looks at anyone.

He told me about Bill Weasley, who has visible scars that still hurts.

He told me about Charlie Weasley, who did not come home this year.

He told me about Arthur Weasley, who sits in a chair and stares out the window.

He told me about Ron Weasley, who tries to cheer everyone up, but cries in the bathroom.

He told me about Ginny Weasley, about the dreams he had for them, about how nothing fit the picture in his head, about how he did not fit the picture in hers either. 

He told me to call him Harry.


	30. Chapter 30

Friday January 1st 1999

 

I received this letter from Pansy:

Dear Draco

I have been talking to Blaise about your letter. He is still not ready to talk to you himself, but I wanted to tell you that I am really proud of you. We both miss you a lot. Sometimes I miss Hogwarts too, but I am happy not to have to endure the stares and whispers from the others. Besides, my father needs me. He is not well and my mother, as you know, is in Azkaban. 

I am sorry that I cut you off completely last year. My father wanted me to distance myself from the children of Death Eaters – Oh what fucking irony that I turned out to be one myself. After I found out about my mother, I have honestly been very ashamed. 

I desperately needed to talk to you, to someone who knows me and my family and understands the situation, but I was afraid that you would turn me away.  
I did want to be there for Blaise when he was hurt and angry, but he never once asked me not to talk to you. He just had to separate himself from you for a time. I am sure he will come around soon. He was very happy that you wrote.

Do not tell him I told you this, but he has been trying to write you since he got your letter. He is just not ready yet.

I hope you can forgive me for abandoning you. Both this year at Hogwarts, but mostly when you needed me to be there for you last year.  
New year, new start – that is my hope for us.

Love  
Pansy

 

I think I will try for three friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys
> 
> I added a couple of tags - "angst" and "reference to selfharm" - if that is not your thing I am so sorry, it's coming in a couple of chapters and I will warn at the beginning of the chapter, so you can skip it if you want to.
> 
> Love Elly


	31. Chapter 31

Wednesday January 6th 1999

 

I have spent a lot of time contemplating the war recently. I wonder if it would have been different for me, had I not known my father was so deeply involved. Would I have kept myself apart from it? I would like to blame Lucius for everything. It would ease my conscience to know that my choices were made for me. It is the narrative I have used, but I am not sure it is accurate. 

A part me knows that I have always yearned for the type of influence the Dark Lord seemed to offer. In Pansy’s position I would not have taken the safe route. I would have thrown my lot in with the option I perceived as most beneficial to me in pursuit of influence. I needed to see the insanity in close proximity to understand it. 

I forgave Pansy easily, because there is nothing to forgive. She did what I wish I had done, but what I could never do. 

She walked away.


	32. Chapter 32

Friday January 8th 1999

 

Tomorrow the castle will be filled with students again.

For some reason the thought fills me with dread. The quiet companionable friendship Harry and I have enjoyed over the past week cannot last once all of the other eight-years return. 

I find myself looking forward to the start of my weekly meetings with you. I know I have not been the easiest patient of yours, but I do appreciate our talks. I cannot rely too heavily on Harry’s penchant for befriending outcasts and as Pansy is out of my reach for now, I find the prospect of sharing my thoughts with a Healer less appalling than I did this summer.

I am heading out to the pitch again this evening. Both Harry and I seem to find it easier to converse in the air. I hope we will find the time between classes as well.


	33. Chapter 33

Monday January 11th 1999

 

Now for an update on the “Find Friends for Draco Malfoy” project. I do not think it likely that Maria Wood and I will become friends. I was working with her in Potions today. The dungeon can get very damp and overheated and I took off my robes halfway through the class. 

I did not even notice the quiet. 

I did however notice Wood’s shriek of horror.

How the fuck did I forget about the sodding Mark? 

It is all Harrys fault. I have been strolling around casually sans robes all through break. He did not seem to notice the Mark at all. Not a flinch.

Fuck.

He looked at me as I headed out of the dungeon. I could feel his eyes burning at my back.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the angsty chapter - this one and the next ones should be skipped if you are triggered by selfharm.
> 
> Love Elly

Wednesday January 13th 1999

 

I cannot get it off. 

It is as if it stares at me, mocks me for all of my mistakes. I will not forget what I am. His Mark on my skin is the world’s reminder of all the things I know about myself. How did I forget how disgusting a thing it reminds them of? 

Maria Wood is allowed to scream, shriek, hit, and yell. Everyone else should do the same.

How can he even stand to look at me? How can Harry fly with me, talk to me and heal with me when he sat with a broken Weasley family only two weeks ago?

I am a part of the reason they are broken. 

I think it is bleeding too much.

I cannot get it off.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi wonderful readers
> 
> I have to say sorry for last chapter, I promise things are looking up, but to quote my inspiring friend @Phrynne: "Healing is not linear".
> 
> Love  
> Elly

Friday January 29th 1999

 

I am back at school. I guess I finally convinced you people that I did not try to kill myself. I just wanted to get rid of it. I know; the Mark is just a symptom of a larger issue and not the cause of my anguish itself. 

My mother seemed happy to see me though, so somehow the trouble feels worth it – do not ship me back to St. Mungo’s I will not try that method of transportation again.

It is difficult to be back. I know that Harry was the one who alerted the headmistress, but I am not sure what everyone else saw. From the way they all stared at the floor, the ceiling, their books and their hands I suppose they have at least heard what happened.

At least they do not stare at me anymore.

I have not spoken to Harry yet, but Pansy told me that he attempted to visit me at the hospital. I guess he does not have Pansy’s complete disregard for proper conduct. I am not sure whom she bribed, hexed, intimidated or all of the above, to get on the “friends and family”-list, but I am very grateful to her – she insisted that she was just exploiting the very entangled nature of pureblood families. I do not buy that for a second.

I will talk to him tomorrow, though I am not sure what I am supposed to say.


	36. Chapter 36

Sunday January 31st 1999

 

I had a meeting with McGonagall today. After my ‘episode’, as she likes to call it, I have been granted visitations with my mother. The headmistress herself had petitioned on my behalf with The P.C.O. All it took was a brush with death for them to realise that I am a human being with actual emotions – I should have tried that sooner.

Too soon to joke about it?

Harry seems to think so. He becomes quiet and sombre when I try for light sarcasm in face of this fucked up situation that I would rather forget about. Quite hypocritical of him, when I have heard him crack multiple Inferi jokes at his own expense. I suppose there is a time and place for gallows humour. I will write some of my better quips down, try again in a month and see how they are received then. 

At this moment there is a large barn owl headed for my window, so I will sign off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thankyouthankyouthankyou to all you awesome people leaving kudos and comments! It makes me want to write all day long.
> 
> Hugs and kisses to all  
> Elly


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't actually intend to put up another chapter today, but I love this one - I know I am not supposed to say that - I should love all my little chapters equally, but I have been aching to share this one with you.
> 
> So here you go. Third one today!
> 
> Love  
> Elly

Monday February 1st 1999

 

It was from Blaise. It was from fucking Blaise.

He writes:

 

Dear Draco

I have been trying to formulate a response to your letter a thousand times. I know you have talked to Pansy, though I am unsure of how much she has told you. 

I do not blame you for the fact that it did not work out between us. I think I knew even then that it was never going to last. You were in a dark place and I fancied myself the one who would save you from it all. Deep down I knew you would never abandon your family; you are a much better man than your upbringing would indicate. 

A part of me always thought that if someone loved you enough you would see that, you would realise that you are worth so much more than your family name. I still believe that, but the failure on my part, was that I did not realise that it is not enough for someone to love you that much. Love is a two-person job. I should have recognised back then that you were not able to participate in the same way I was. 

All of this said you might be wondering why I found it hard to write you now.

The thing is, Draco, I do not quite know yet if I am able to be your friend and I am positive that you do not want anything more from me than that.

After your stay in the hospital I had to write to you, if only to tell you why I find it difficult to respond. I am sure we could be friends now, but as soon as you found someone to be the person for you that I could not be, I am not sure I could witness it.

Pansy told me how you talk about Harry Potter, you always did fixate on him, I should not be surprised.

How can anyone compete with him?

I am sure, given time, that I will be able to be your friend again. I still am I guess. 

Your absent friend.

Blaise


	38. Chapter 38

Friday February 5th 1999

 

I have been thinking about Blaise’s letter and I think I might have been in quite heavy denial about Harry. Come to think of it, you might have implied the same in some of our earlier session. I was not actually listening that closely at the time. 

It has been a three-step process of realising that my feelings for Harry are probably not platonic. 

First step was Blaise’s letter – he just assumed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I stormed off at once to yell at Pansy, forgot all about being embarrassed about my bloody self being paraded through the eight-year common room. I also forgot that she is not actually here for me to yell at, so I ended up fuming alone in an empty classroom. I might have broken a chair. Or three.

Secondly I saw Harry and for the first time I was cataloguing my response.

The moment he smiled at me, my throat closed up, my breathing became heavier, my chest ached. 

How could I not have noticed it before? I must have noticed it a little which brings me to the third and striking blow to the “Fucking Hell I Am in Love with Harry Fucking Potter”- realisation process.

I read this journal back. I thought to myself, if I had been in love with Harry Fucking Potter, Boy Wonder, Saviour to All – there would be a clue in this journal. 

I was so sure there was not.

I was so fucking stupid.

And now I am screwed. He is not gay. I am at least considerably sure he is not. He is also not likely to want to date a fucking Death Eater, as he is Harry Fucking Potter. 

I cannot screw up my friendship with him over this. 

 

On a completely non-Potter related note – I am visiting my mother tomorrow. I hope she recognises me.


	39. Chapter 39

Sunday February 7th 1999

 

My mother did not recognize me yesterday. Her healer says that it is normal and that her condition is improving, but I am not optimistic about her diagnoses. I owled Pansy with an Urgency Owl from the hospital and low and behold she came right over. 

It was good to see her under normal circumstances, even if I am not allowed to leave the Hospital premise. Just having tea with a friend in an almost normal setting without supervision was liberating. 

Pansy almost choked on her tea when I shared my revelation about Harry with her. I guess she thought I already knew. Well, I did not. Her advice was awful; presents, fancy chocolate, excessive touching. 

That is when I realised that she does not know Harry. She knows the picture we had of him and she knows what she would want herself. However, she does not know him.

This led me to a horrible and potentially extremely embarrassing conclusion. I have to speak with Granger or Weasley.

It is fucking dragonpox or spattergoit.


	40. Chapter 40

Wednesday February 10th 1999

 

I still have not found a way to approach one of Harry’s friends. To be frank, I have not actually attempted to speak to any of them yet. I go back and forth between ‘pull yourself together Draco, he will never be interested in you that way’ and ‘pull yourself together Draco, and go do something about it’.

As for right now, I am leaning towards action. 

My first hurdle is to choose the cause of action. I could simply speak to Harry, but even writing it down makes me nauseated. That leaves Granger or Weasley.

Granger:  
She is rational and probably more in touch with Harry’s emotional state than Weasley. The downside is, well, I am pretty sure she is the one person in the entire wizarding world with the best reason to hate me with a passion.

Weasley:  
Arguably Harry’s best friend. If Harry by some miracle turns out to be attracted to men, my guess is that Weasley might be the first to know. The thing is – Weasley’s hate for me knows no equal. 

I think Granger’s rational mind wins out in the end.

 

Shit. I am going to have to apologise.


	41. Chapter 41

Sunday February 14th 1999

 

I hate Valentine’s Day.  
I hate it with a fucking passion.  
I hate the hearts everywhere.  
I hate the singing fucking telegrams.  
I hate the giggling girls.  
I hate the strutting boys.  
I hate all those goofy smiles.  
I hate the red everywhere.  
I hate that fucked up looking tuxedo that Hagrid wears.  
I hate all the handholding. 

Most of all  
I hate being alone on fucking Valentine’s Day. 

It sucks.


	42. Chapter 42

Thursday February 18th 1999

 

I have a couple of issues I would like to address in this entry.

One, I have come to the conclusion that I cannot just walk up to Granger, apologise to her and then casually ask about Harry Potter’s sexual orientation. What a revelation. Salazar Slytherin should be turning in his grave with embarrassment at how long that was actually my plan of action.

The other issue is that I find myself utterly incapable of speaking to Harry now. He approaches me. We fly sometimes, but my throat gets dry and when I do speak, I say the fucking stupid shit.

Just as an example, here is the actual, verbatim conversation I had with him yesterday:

\- Draco, wait up.  
\- What is it Potter?  
\- I was just, sorry. I was just wondering…  
\- I do not have all day.  
\- Sure, sure. Er…  
\- Yes?  
\- Are you mad at me?  
\- What? No.  
\- Oh, ok.  
\- Is that all?  
\- Yes, yeah I guess. See you.  
\- Can’t wait.  
\- And I told you to call me Harry.

See – fucking stupid.

I think about conversations like that and I wonder why he bothers speaking to me at all. I am such a stupid prick sometimes. He would probably cart me back to St. Mungo’s if I tried to be nice to him. Or kiss him. Or run my fingers through his wild hair.

Shit.

Well, back to the problem at hand. Project “Figure Out if Harry Potter Likes Blokes” (preferably blond, pale ones who treat him appallingly).

First step has to be speaking to Granger. If she dismisses even the smallest approach from me, I will lay another strategy. Second step – apologise.


	43. Chapter 43

Sunday February 21st 1999

 

I did what you said. I tried to approach Granger. I even came up with a common interest. I read – she is a walking encyclopaedia. 

I really did try, but the Weasley is always right near her. Every time I moved towards her, he was there. Or Harry was beside her. Does that woman do anything alone? Maybe Weasley has some kind of Malfoy-specific trace on her. Bip bip bip it goes if I even contemplate speaking to Granger. 

I could send her a letter of some sort, but that seems quite silly when we share a common room. 

I will think of something.


	44. Chapter 44

Tuesday February 23rd 1999

 

And now she surely suspects me of stalking or nefarious intents of some variety. 

I have been skulking around like a mad person trying to get her alone. If I do not terminate this course of action soon, she will only be wearier of me. To think I could do something to make me seem even creepier than just a regular, run of the mill, Death Eater.

In other depressing news, I saw Harry walking arm in arm with Lovegood today. 

Maybe it is for the best. I think I have been entertaining this ridiculous romantic notion of fitting in somewhere, being suited to someone. If Harry takes up with Lovegood, at least I can be sure that there is not even the slightest possibility that anything could happen between the two of us.

Even writing it down it sounds fucking insane to me. 

Get it in your head Draco Lucius Malfoy, Harry would not want you, even if he did turn out to be more bent than Albus Dumbledore.


	45. Chapter 45

Friday February 26th 1999

 

I have not spoken with Harry since that awful conversation I had with him a couple of weeks ago. I have tried to figure out a way, some way to not be one of the millions of people with a crush on The Light of The Wizarding World – seriously, that is what they called him in an article in The Prophet yesterday. It is embarrassing. I have to shake myself out of it, if I want any chance to salvage this disaster of a friendship I need to fall out of love.

There is a Hogsmeade weekend this weekend.

I asked Blaise to meet me in town. 

Do not even start with me – I am not taking advantage of Blaise. I am not. I miss him as a friend and well, maybe a part of me wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... don't send too many howlers...


	46. Chapter 46

Sunday February 28th 1999

 

I was taking advantage of Blaise.

I am such an asshole. There are new levels of despicable reserved just for me. 

There are reporters for The Daily Prophet. Then there are those annoying people at each end at Diagon Alley, who try to get you to donate a monthly fee to a children’s ward at St. Mungo’s or something equally heart wrenching – and when you say no, their arguments are always of the “But could you not buy one less Butterbeer this month if it saves a life” – variety. Below them you have your regular hustlers and riff raff, who try to sell off their good for nothing polished piece of an old wine bottle as a unique magical gem from Zimbabwe. Then, at the very bottom of that shit pile of people, you have me.

Fuck. I am not able to form any coherent thought at this moment.

I need to though. I need to figure it out.

Shit.


	47. Chapter 47

Monday March 1st 1999

 

I finally spoke with Granger, but let me just explain what happened in Hogsmeade on Saturday before I get into that.

Blaise and I met up at the gates. It was so good to see him again that I actually hugged him. It was somewhat awkward but worth the completely baffled look on his face.

We spoke all the way down to The Three Broomsticks; well he did the most of the actual talking, I guess. I was glad to see him though, I really was. It is not as if I had asked him out on a date. I wrote to him to meet up and talk about everything. Maybe I was kind of hoping for a spark, something, anything to make me forget about Harry, but I had not eluded to that in my letter to him, I am almost certain I had not. I wish I had saved a copy of the letter as to transcribe it here.

As we sat down with a Butterbeer each, who would walk in but Harry?

He was with all his Gryffindor buddies and some other ones too I guess. A bubbly seventh year I do not know, was rubbing herself all over him. I mean Ginny Weasley was at the table too, the bubbly airhead could have shown some discretion. It was too much. Anyone would have looked, really. They were all rather loud.

Blaise commented on it too.

After that distraction, we got to talking again. Blaise wanted to know about Hogwarts, but what was I supposed to tell him. I am a weird loner who has recently begun the exhilarating new hobby of stalking Hermione Granger. So I just said something non-committal and tried to steer the conversation away from me. I asked him about his mother, I think. Then I asked him if he was seeing anyone.

That is when he took my hand.

I just froze. His hand felt wrong in mine. Everything about the situation felt wrong. 

Then someone at the Gryffindor table yelled out Harry’s name and I rather jerked my hand away.

Blaise looked so hurt. He was just staring at me shaking his head. “Next time you think of writing me, don’t” – he said, and then he left.

I am such an asshole. 

As I got up to leave, Granger came over to me of her own volition. She had this weird look on her face. I am honestly not sure what it was about. I am mostly baffled thinking about the whole encounter with her. 

As far as I remember, it went like this:

\- Malfoy  
\- Granger  
\- I don’t get it.  
\- Well, that must be an exciting new experience for you.  
\- Har Har.  
\- What is it you do not get?  
\- You and Harry.  
\- Well, you should ask him about it.  
\- I have.  
\- Anything you would like to share with the class?  
\- Not particularly, no.  
\- Ok. Was there any actual point of you coming over here, Granger?  
\- Well, it is not really my place, is it?  
\- What?  
\- Just, Malfoy, I really want to believe Harry when he says that you have changed. Do not prove him wrong.

She turned to leave and I noticed that Harry was not sitting at their table anymore. I am not sure when he left. I am also not sure what half the nonsense Granger spouted was supposed to mean. 

One thing I do know; I do not want Harry to be wrong.


	48. Chapter 48

Thursday March 4th 1999

 

I am almost certain that Harry is ignoring me. It is hard to tell as I am avoiding him as much as possible, but it irks me. Why does he feel the need to ignore me?

Well, ok, I did blow him off for a couple of weeks after I said I was not mad at him. That is not exactly normal behaviour and he does not know that I am doing it for his own good. 

I mean, what would happen if I suddenly acted on one of my insane impulses and just grabbed him and threw him against a wall. He would think I was attacking him or something similarly hostile. The P.C.O. would throw me in Azkaban before I even touched him.

I really want to touch him.

Fuck.

See, this is my problem. I cannot be around him when I am always undressing him in my head. 

I should probably try to speak with him. At least this way it does not have to be about my feelings – I will limit my focus to being his friend. 

I will just have to stomp down the part of me that wants to taste him.


	49. Chapter 49

Saturday March 6th 1999

 

Pansy yelled at me. 

I was headed for my monthly visit with mother when she accosted me outside The Janus Thickey Ward.

She walked up to me and started yelling about what a ‘completely spineless, inconsiderate, oblivious, adorable prick’ I am. What does it say about my sense of self, that I was most offended about the ‘adorable’ comment? Handsome, dashing, mysterious maybe? All very appropriate adjectives to describe me – but adorable? 

She went with me to see my mother though, so I am sure she is not that mad. She did tell me in no uncertain terms, however, that I am not to contact Blaise again. If he ever wants to be friends, it will be up to him. So says Pansy, so says all.

It was actually quite a pleasant visit apart from the screaming. My mother spoke a bit about the garden at the manor and asked about the upkeep. I do not think she remembers the war at all, though I am not sure what story she has concocted in her head to make sense of it all. 

Father is never mentioned, I guess a part of her knows that he is not available. 

She keeps fidgeting with her wedding band.


	50. Chapter 50

Wednesday March 10th 1999

 

I have initiated conversations with Potter thrice this week.

And thrice, he has walked away from me.

I guess I am down to one friend again. Fucking brilliant Draco.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters almost in a row, I couldn't let you guys wait too long for this one.
> 
> If I haven't told you all enough, you guys are so awesome!
> 
> Love  
> Elly

Sunday March 14th 1999

 

I saw him heading out to the Quidditch Pitch last night after I returned from our session. 

I ran after him, I did not even collect my ArcherX from my room so I ended up grabbing an old Cleansweep from the shed. 

We always did speak better, more honestly, in the air.

He kept racing ahead of me, refusing to answer anything. I finally just yelled at him, forgetting there is a thing called pride that I am usually somewhat fond of keeping intact. I shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screamed back at me, “If you don’t know what is wrong by now, Malfoy, what the fuck are you doing here?”

He stopped in the air, glaring at me, waiting for me to explain, so I did.

I told him everything. Well, I shouted it at him more like. I just yelled out everything. My heart is still pounding. I am such a mess. Damn it. I feel ridiculous even thinking about how I screamed stuff at him. I think it was something like:

“What am I doing here? Where else would I be Harry. I miss you, I can’t think of anything else. I can’t even try and be decent to Blaise when some silly bint is hanging all over you. Fuck. I want to be your friend, I do, but sometimes it’s just too fucking hard to only be able to be your friend and then I’m an asshole about it. I know that. I hear myself spouting stupid shit and I can’t stop myself. If I stop myself then I am going to do something to really ruin everything and then what do I have left? I am fucking trying Harry, but you have no idea how hard it is to be near you and not be able to touch you.”

Something like that, or probably exactly like that – I do not think I will ever forget the stunned look on his face. Merlin, it is so humiliating. 

As you have probably guessed by now, I hurried the fuck out of there after that fiasco.


	52. Chapter 52

Tuesday March 16th 1999

 

I have not left my room since I screamed my heart out at Harry. I keep reading my latest entry, wondering what in Merlin’s name I was thinking. 

He looked so mortified. 

Of course he is horrified, who would not be. He has been kind to me, wanting to give me a second chance, wanting to see the change in me if there is anything there to discover. Now he probably assumes I was only out to get in his pants. He probably thinks it has all been a lie on my part. I said I wanted to touch him. That is so sleazy. Who says that? Well, I do apparently. Me and inappropriate drunk uncles.

In a little over a week, the castle empties again for Easter. At least I know that Harry will find it infinitely less painful to stay with the mourning Weasley’s than to be stuck here with me again. I hope that after the holidays it will all be forgotten - or rather supressed in my case. 

I will focus on my studies for the rest of the term and before I know it, this probationary year will be over and I can go find myself a life somewhere where no one has ever heard the name Draco Malfoy.


	53. Chapter 53

Saturday March 20th 1999

 

Harry has been trying to speak to me. He waits for me after classes, at meals, in our common room, he even waited outside the lavatory on Thursday.

I wish he would not. He is probably going to tell me something awful, maybe how flattering it is that I find him attractive but of cause he is in love with some busty blonde or another so he is ever so sorry. 

Well, Harry, I wish you and the future Mrs Bimbo Potter all the happiness in the world, but please keep me out of it. I do not think I could handle him being nice to me. If he was extremely obnoxious about the whole affair I might be able to cope, but him feeling sorry for my gay crush is not something I can tolerate.

One week until Easter, I can make it one more week.


	54. Chapter 54

Tuesday March 23rd 1999

 

Remember what a monumentally stupid idea I found it to send an owl to someone with whom you share a common room?

Well, that is Harry fucking Potter for you. Saviour, Chosen Moron.

Here is the missive that was waiting for me, as I entered my room:

 

Draco

Stop avoiding me. It’s ridiculous. 

I need to speak to you. I promise not to mention a word of what you yelled at me, if that helps. 

I’ll come knock on your door tomorrow at nine. Please be there.

Harry


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more entry today, because I am ahead of schedule on my writing - I am just enjoying the process so much!
> 
> Thank you guys for all the kudos and comments.
> 
> Love  
> Elly

Wednesday March 24th 1999

 

I can say with some authority that Harry Potter is in fact attracted to pale, blond, obnoxious idiots, who treat him appallingly.


	56. Chapter 56

Friday March 26th 1999

 

Most students are heading home for the break tomorrow afternoon. I am not sure if I can ask Harry to stay or ask if he intends to stay… 

Ok, I guess I have to fill you in. I am courteously asking you not to mention this to me again, I am actually appalled at myself for even sharing, but I need advice on this when I see you tomorrow morning.

I stayed in my room on Wednesday and waited for him. I did honestly start to leave a couple of times because as we both know; I am a coward. He did promise not to address the most awkward Declaration of Lust in recent history, probably in all of history come to think of it, so that helped. 

It was five minutes past nine when he knocked on my door.

It was eight minutes past nine when he told me to shut up and let him speak.

It was nine minutes past nine when he took my hand.

It was ten minutes past nine when he brushed my hair out of my eyes.

It was eleven minutes past nine when he kissed me.

I cannot remember what he said, if he said anything at all, but I will never forget that kiss. Now I just do not know what to do. He left right after. I did not say anything at all, of that I am sure. I guess he is waiting for me to say something now, preferably in dulcet tones this time.

Maybe he will let me kiss him this time.


	57. Chapter 57

Sunday March 28th 1999

 

It turned out I did not need to agonize over it at all. He did seem to wait for me to come to him this time, but as soon as I did, he just took my hand. In front of Weasley and Granger and well, everyone. I think I might have mumbled something quite offensive about sappy Gryffindors, but it was rather nice. There was a couple of shocked gasps coming from Maria Wood’s general direction, but Harry just held my hand tighter and told me not to fret. Well, he did not put it quite like that, he said “Fuck them, they don’t know you, don’t let them get to you.” 

I tugged him after me towards my room and asked him if he was staying at Hogwarts.

The cheeky bugger actually had the nerve to smirk and ask me if I wanted him to.

I kissed him to shut him up.

The point is; he is staying and for the first time since I was fifteen, I am tentatively defining my circumstances as happy.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am away for most of today and tomorrow, so you might have to wait a little for the next update. So, here is another one to tie you over untill then.
> 
> Love  
> Elly

Sunday April 4th 1999

 

I completely forgot to write this week, but with this entry, I still fill my weekly quota. 

Long story short – I am almost certain that I have a boyfriend.

Harry Potter is probably my boyfriend.

I just realised what a complete sap I sound like. 

First thing, I have not actually called him my boyfriend to his face. I might sound banal and sentimental when I write in, what did turn out to be, a twelve-year-old girl’s journal, but I do have some dignity in person. 

Please for the love of magic, stop me, shoot an Avada Kedavra at me if necessary if I start doodling little lightning bolts in the corner of the pages - I beg you. 

Secondly, I still find it hard to believe that he actually wants to be with me. He shows me though. He is always touching me, not overtly, he just finds a way to make sure there is always contact. 

Our thighs up against each other when we study.

His hand on my back when we walk through a door.

Two fingers on my jaw just before he kisses me.

His whole fist in my hair when he is done.

Fuck.

Everyone is coming back tonight and I am hoping that it does not have to stop.


	59. Chapter 59

Friday April 9th 1999

 

Two things.

One – I am visiting my mother tomorrow and I have been contemplating inviting Harry to come along. Pansy is probably going to be there and maybe it is unreasonably soon to ‘meet the parents’ - as it were. However, I know I would feel better having him there.

Pansy is going to be a nightmare.

The other thing – I am afraid I am keeping Harry from his friends and, well, everyone. I am a selfish bastard that is an established fact, but Harry is not. He is social and likable and cares about everyone. I have been thinking that I need to make an effort to approach at least one or two of the Gryffindors to show him that I… well, care too I suppose.

I had planned to speak with Granger back when Harry was straight, but really was not and I was a total mess. I could follow through on that. I will. If he goes with me to see my mother, I will try with Granger.


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters for you at the same times, because you are all awsome!

Sunday April 11th 1999

 

The visit with mother was quite successful. I am not sure she understands who Harry is now. She was somewhat surprised that he visited and even asked me outright; “But Draco dear, I thought you hated Harry Potter? He always does get you into trouble, I do not like that he lured you out at night so you had to go into that horrible forest. Honestly, we should tell the headmaster to close it off or clear it all together. Centaurs, acromantula, thestrals and all sorts of other reprehensible creatures – right next to a school full of children.” 

She went on a bit, but Harry was hissing at me that I owed him for not correcting the version she had of various events that transpired between us. The only thing I could think of was ways I could repay him. It took my mind far away from my mother’s ramblings and made me wonder if Harry really is as attracted to men, or me, as he claims.

He tells me that I need to stop trying to fit everything in boxes. I guess I do enjoy things being black or white, sweet or salty, gay or straight. 

I am not sure I agree with his assessment that everything is fluid – a description I am almost certain he acquired from Granger. 

When I point out that the gender fluidity he speaks about sounds like numerous people afraid to step completely out of the closet, he just laughs at me. Not in that mocking way he used to, he just chuckles lightly, sometimes he kisses me too, and calls me old-fashioned. 

Pansy met up with us in the cafeteria – she squealed with delight when she saw Harry. She could not shut up about how right she had been about the whole thing.

It was quite embarrassing.

When we got back to the castle, he kept looking at me with this strange expression on his face.


	61. Chapter 61

Thursday April 15th 1999

 

Shit.

I am freaking out. 

Harry asked me to go with him to celebrate Teddy Lupin’s first birthday. 

I had to say yes. He went with me to see mother after all. 

It is this Saturday.

It is at my estranged aunt’s house, which is bad enough. I do not know how she feel about me at all. Not good, I suspect. 

At least half of the Weasleys, and what is left of The Order of the Phoenix, will be there too.

Fuck.

I tried to reason with him and tell him that I am not going to be wanted at a gathering like that.

He said “I want you there; I want my boyfriend to be at my godson’s first birthday.”

Then my knees turned to jelly and I agreed to everything. If I did not know for a fact that he is way too noble for tricks of that calibre, I would have thought he manipulated me.

He called me his boyfriend. 

I am getting dangerously close to doodling those lightning bolts.


	62. Chapter 62

Sunday April 18th 1999

 

It was extremely awkward. 

Harry assures me that it went well, but I doubt he would notice an awkward social situation if it bit him in the arse. He is so used to people looking at him, getting quiet when he walks in to a room, watching him in awe or shock or both, that he does not notice it anymore.

I did speak to Granger and Weasley though. They were decent; I think Harry might have spoken to them about being civil. He has not said anything to me about how to behave or who to talk to, but I saw him glancing at us when we were making awkward small talk as if we had not hated each other with a passion for the better part of our schooling.

“What an interesting view on house-elfs, Granger, what are your thoughts on the new centaur legislation?” are words that I never thought I would say. I might have sounded insincere. I am considerably sure I saw Granger grip the back of Weasley’s shirt as I walked away from them, presumably keeping him from punching me in the face, though I cannot say for sure.

The kid was cute though, Teddy Lupin. I bought him a BabySnitch and played with him for a while - that seemed to soften up Mrs. Tonks at least. At one point Teddy’s hair turned bright purple and everyone stopped talking and stared at me, waiting for a reaction.

I know I was a bigoted prat and I can see how they would assume that my father’s views on Metamorphmagi might have been ingrained in me as well, but did they honestly think that I would jump away from the child in a room full of people who love him and scream offensive slurs?

For the record, I think the kid is marvellous and who ever thought being able to change your appearance at will is a bad thing, is an idiot. Yes, father, I am looking at you, you fucking asshole.

I told Harry as much as we headed home. He just shook his head and told me that I did not have to defend myself to him “I know you Draco,” he said.


	63. Chapter 63

Saturday April 24th 1999

 

I have found one downside to having a boyfriend. I am extremely distracted.

NEWTs are fast approaching and I need to concentrate.

I cannot fucking concentrate with Harry sitting next to me all the time.

Placing a hand on my thigh.

Whispering in my ear, his breath on my skin.

His entire body against mine on the couch as he reads.

My focus is as sharp as a goblin-made sword. I just focus on the wrong thing and I do not ever want it to change. Who needs NEWTs anyway? A fellowship is not that important.


	64. Chapter 64

Sunday April 25th 1999

 

I have been thinking a lot about what you said yesterday but I am not certain how to approach the subject.

I know that Harry has not made his mind up about his career and I do not want him to feel pressured by me to make a decision. Everyone else is pestering him enough about it as it is and we have only been seeing each other for a month I cannot lay any claim on him or presume to know what is best for him.

However, I do think he should kindly ask Weasley to back the fuck off with the Auror business. It seems obvious to me that the last thing Harry should be doing with his time is spending it on dangerous assholes determined on killing him. 

He has told me to that he has been thinking about taking a year off and traveling – he has literally never been anywhere. I would love to show him all my favourite European getaways. Diagon Alley is fantastic, but he should experience that joy, of walking in to the Alley for the first time, again and again. I want to see his face when he does. I want to walk the underground markets of Paris and the floating boutiques of Öland in Stockholm with Harry next to me. 

But I need to stay close to mother. 

I need to make something of myself. 

I need to be worth something other than the money I can throw at people to make them pretend they do not remember what I was a part of.

Sometimes June 30th seems far away but right now, it feels too close for comfort.

Who would have thought that I would wish this schoolyear was longer than ten months. How times have changed.


	65. Chapter 65

Friday May 7th 1999

 

It is getting to me.

I need to find a way to, casually, breach the subject of plans for the future.

Right now, it goes something like this in my head:

“Harry, are you going to leave me a heartbroken mess and go off to India or Peru and fall in love with an exotic Peruvian Salamander breeder and forget all about me? No pressure, I would just like to be prepared.”

I am seeing Pansy at the hospital tomorrow as usual; I might try to speak to her about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARGH! I finished it, so now you I just have to update... 8 chapters left!


	66. Chapter 66

Sunday May 9th 1999

 

I fucked it up.

Shit.

Bloody Pansy and her awful advice.


	67. Chapter 67

Tuesday May 11th 1999

 

Harry rarely judges me. I remember him having such a temper when we were younger. I only make him mad when it appears as if I do not trust him. 

He does not understand; it is myself I do not trust. 

We really got into it on Sunday.

I had it all planned out. I wanted to tell him that I was applying for that fellowship at St. Mungo’s. He knows I have thought about becoming a healer and I wanted to ease into the conversation about next year somehow. Pansy’s advice was to start him talking about his own future first and then hope that he asked me at some point. That way I could play it of as if I had not thought that much about it.   
Casual. Dignified. As I said, I fucked that up.

In the longstanding tradition of Draco Sodding Malfoy Pureblood Fuckup and All-round Shitty Conversationalist, I proceeded to have this exchange with Harry:

\- Have you thought more about being an Auror?  
\- I guess so, a little.  
\- And…?  
\- I don’t know, do I. I feel like everyone wants something from me, they want me to be something, do something.  
\- What would you like to do?  
\- I don’t know. I really don’t. I guess Auror work seems all right, I just don’t want to head right into that. I want to be free for a while, you know?  
\- Free, how?  
\- Just free. Free from expectations, commitments and people pulling me in all directions.  
\- Oh.  
\- I would love for once in my life to have nothing planned at all.  
\- Yeah.   
\- Have you thought about it at all?  
\- I suppose.  
\- Still leaning towards healing?  
\- I do not know why you would care.  
\- What is that supposed to mean?  
\- What the fuck do you care, Harry? What do you care what I do next year?  
\- Of course I care.  
\- Well, you are going to be fucking free and independent, do not let me wrench you away from that.  
\- Draco, that’s not…  
\- Fuck you.

And I got out of bed and dressed faster than I have in my life and got the fuck out of there.

In hindsight, I might have overreacted a bit.

He apologised yesterday and tried to speak to me about it again.

I cannot talk about it yet. I know that he did not mean that I am a burden or someone who expects him to do anything he does not want to. 

However, I am someone who wants something from him and I am not sure he should give me what I need.


	68. Chapter 68

Sunday May 16th 1999

 

Sometimes I forget all the progress I have made, I forget all the things Harry has told me, I forget that I am worth something to someone. To more people than my mother who has to love me.

Why is it so hard to accept the complements and believe them and almost impossible to forget the bad shit people call you? 

All my faults seem on display.

I cannot hide them; they are branded on my arm, in my hair, on my soul and in my name.


	69. Chapter 69

Thursday May 20th 1999

 

She is getting worse. 

I got a letter from St. Mungo’s yesterday. They want me to come visit with my mother this weekend. The P.C.O. already approved it that cannot be a good thing. I have a monthly visit – no more. 

I should ask Harry to go with me, but things have been harder. I cannot let go of this feeling of dread and foreboding. 

The questions are in his eyes. He does not ask them, because I demand he will not.


	70. Chapter 70

Saturday May 29th 1999

 

I do not know how to do this. My mother is gone and I cannot write about it in some bloody journal. 

Could I get just one fucking week off.


	71. Chapter 71

Saturday June 5th 1999

 

Fuck you. Fuck this stupid shit.

Do not tell me how to feel about all of this. You have no idea. Not a clue. 

Neither does Harry.

I cannot talk to him about this. I will not let myself forget for even a second that she is gone. 

I would though – I would forget for minutes at a time if I got lost in him again.

NEWTs are commencing this week and I need all my focus there. I need to be something for her. I need to be more than I was. I need to be everything she thought I could be.

At least I was happy for a little while. 

Now I have to, I have to do this, I have to focus on this, on the name, on the family – everything. I cannot let myself be distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last two chapters coming tonight!
> 
> I am so excited to see what you guys think.
> 
> <3


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last two chapters... EICH!

Saturday June 12th 1999

 

Do not tell me how to do this. I show up to your fucking sessions, I write in a diary every week. I hold up my end of the bargain. 

Once a week.

You want me to tell you about Harry? Fine, I will. 

I had to fucking scream at him to leave me alone. I had to fucking break his heart because he would not stop. 

I screamed until my lungs were hurting.

I screamed until my voice was gone.

I screamed until I believed some of it myself.

He is traveling, he told me that much. He will travel and he will find some wonderful person to love and he will know then what I know now. This could never have been more than it was. It is too much. I need him too much. I love him too much. He loves everything. He loves everyone. He might have loved me too, but it is not the same. It is not the same all-consuming love that it is for me. It would not have worked. 

I cannot be with someone that has that much power over me. I need to be something for myself. I have to.


	73. Chapter 73

Saturday June 19th 1999

 

Last entry.

Next week we have our final meeting, so this is it.

I have applied for the fellowship at St. Mungo’s. McGonagall wrote a letter of recommendation. I think I might get in.

I wanted to thank you.

I know you do not agree with all of my decisions at this point – though you would never admit it. I know you think I push people away. Pansy is in my life now though, that is something. That is a start.  
Harry asked me if he could write me while he travels. I almost said no. Almost but not quite. I think we might be better off like this. Pen pals in different parts of the world. 

I already miss him.

I miss his touch.

I miss his smile.

I miss the way he holds me.

I miss the way his light reflects onto me.

Do I even have a light of my own? I am not sure, I hope so, that is what I am going to find out.

 

Thank you for everything. Really.

I know I have been a fucking disaster and quite rude to you. 

I apologise. 

We might see each other in passing at work or in the street. I will reserve a smile for you.

I will save a smile for Harry too, if he wants it when he gets back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who had followed along this month! I am so happy and I feel empty and I hope I have more stories to tell. 
> 
> All the love  
> /Elly
> 
> UPDATE: The short sequel is up! (Harry POV, uh...!!)


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